A Drunken Night in Paris
by ninesbadwolf
Summary: I know you've been having a rough time lately, and I was just wondering if you would like to go out with me tonight. The bars won't close until one and it's not even midnight. We would still have time to get some drinks, let off some steam. Minor spoilers for DAN


A Drunken Night in Paris

It had been a long night for Minette, Sonny Joon could see that in her face. Even though Minette had never been the best boss to work for, and he had had a lot of experience with bosses, he still hated to see her so stressed out. Maybe she just needed a night out on the town. He thought back to when he worked at Beech Hill. His boss Joanna had been so stressed out with a new exhibit but he finally had tempted her into coming out to drinks with him. It had been a fun night of drunkenly laughing at Taylor Sinclair's tie and trying to convince Joanna of the existence of aliens.

"Minette?" Sonny called out as his boss shrieked from inside her studio for the third time that night.

"What is it Sonny?" The intercom asked. "I told you not to bother me."

"I know, but... I know you've been having a rough time lately, and I was just wondering if you would like to go out with me tonight. The bars won't close until one and it's not even midnight. We would still have time to get some drinks, let off some steam."

Sonny could practically hear her scowling through the intercom as she contemplated the idea. Hanging out with the assistant? She was a high class fashion designer, not some college student looking to get drunk to end a particularly stressful week; that was more Heather's crowd. But she had to admit, he was kinda cute, in a bumbling, quirky college guy way. And she deserved to have some fun. Ever since she had been approached by those German spies to design a dress that would spy on the World Summit, she had been growing more and more stressed by the hours leading up to when she would have to deliver the dress. She still had weeks to finish anyway. What the hell, she thought. Let's go get drunk with the alien-obsessed assistant.

"Did you know, that aliens have been in contact with humans since ancient Egypt?" Sonny slurred loudly as he walked Minette home. It was one thirty in the morning and Sonny and Minette were as drunk as ever after their evening of drinking, stumbling with ever step, holding hands to keep each other balanced. "Yeah, they're the reasons we built the pyramids. The gods we were building temples to, they were the gods!"

Minette laughed loudly as she listened to Sonny rant about aliens. Whenever he had tried to talk to her about aliens before, she had always rolled her eyes, pushing him out of her office by telling him that Heather also was an alien enthusiast, and then locking the door behind him. Now that she was actually taking the time to listen to him, she had to admit the plausibility of aliens actually existing. She might even become an alien enthusiast too after tonight, especially after she had passed the massive hangover that she knew was coming in the morning.

"So when did you actually become interested in aliens Sonny?" she asked.

"Well Minette," Sonny answered, working hard to not slur his words. "It was actually a night very similar to this one. I was just your average college student, going to school, studying to be a detective. Obviously that fell through for me. Very hard work, definitely not my speed.

"One night, my friends convinced me to go to the movies with them, some alien movie. It was a cheap matinee. Now that I'm thinking about it, nothing in that movie was actually factually correct about aliens. Anyway, my friends absolutely adored it and then insisted on going out for drinks afterwards. All they could talk about that night were aliens. The more and more drunk they got, the more and more they talked about aliens, until finally, one of them got the bright idea of getting an alien tattoo. Being as drunk as they were, this sounded like a genius idea to all of my friends. So we all piled into a cab and threw some money to the driver, telling him to take us to the nearest tattoo shop that would do alien tattoos. So he drove us to a tattoo shop and my friend ended going through with it, getting a little alien tattooed on his bicep. Finally the night ended and we all went home.

"For whatever reason, I still could not get that stupid alien movie out of my head, especially because I saw that alien-tattooed bicep every day in class. So I did some research on aliens, and found out more than I ever could have imagined. People had actual proof of aliens, not silly hoaxes made for late night news, actual proof! The more I researched, the more enthralled I became with aliens, until finally while studying for an exam, I decided to drop out of the detective program, and dedicate my life to aliens.

"I've still got so much to learn, and alien research can be an expensive business to be in, so I've just been getting odd jobs here and there, sometimes relating to aliens, sometimes not. Enough to keep the alien research rolling."

"That's so fascinating Sonny. Who knows, maybe I'll stop designing dresses and become an alien researcher with you too!" Minette teased. "But truly, I do find aliens fascinating, especially after hearing all you've told me tonight."

"Well if you find them so fascinating, you should get a tattoo of one! Most alien enthusiast groups require one alien related tattoo anyway!" Sonny exclaimed, reaching for his belt buckle.

Minette's eyes widened. "What are you doing?!"

"I'm showing you my alien tattoo of course!" Minette raised an eyebrow in suspicion, but obliged. Maybe she would like what she was shown.

Sonny's pants dropped to the cement ground and then came his (Of course, Minette thought) alien boxers. Minette had barely gotten a chance to have a glance at him before he had turned around to show her his bare ass. Right on his left cheek was a little green alien head, just like the one's she had seen him doodling before. She laughed out loud before she could stop herself. "That is brilliant! Now I have to get one just like that!"

Sonny's face split into a grin. "I know just the place!" he exclaimed as he yanked his pants up. Before Minette could stop him, he had grabbed her hand, practically dragging her down the street as his long gangly legs ran them to wherever he was taking her.

After running for a few minutes, they halted in front of a dark looking tattoo shop. They raced to the door just as the owner went to flip the open sign to closed. "Wait, wait, one more customer!" Sonny yelled, waving his arms around as if the owner could not see them.

"Sorry dude," he said through the glass. "We're closed. Besides, you do not look like you're in the best state to be getting a permanent tattoo."

"But it's not for me, it's for my friend. She wants to get an alien tattoo, just like mine." Sonny reached for his belt for the second time that night until the owner quickly opened the door and pulled him. "Dude if you're gonna drop your shorts, do it in private. But I guess if you're that desperate for a tattoo, I can do one more tonight. And instead of showing me yours, why don't you just draw it," the owner said as he handed Sonny a scrap piece of paper and a pencil from behind the cash register. Sonny quickly set to work drawing the little alien head as the owner prepared Minette for her tattoo.

"So where would you like your alien tattoo miss? Right on your lower back?"

Minette scoffed. "As if." But when she thought about, she didn't know where exactly she wanted her tattoo. She thought about her position in the fashion world. Many times fashion designers would try to outdo each other with their ridiculous stunts to get attention. What would be the most attention grabbing move she could do? Then it came to her.

"Right here." Minette pointed to her left cheek.

The tattoo artist looked hesitant. "You sure about that ma'am?"

"Of course I am, now get to it. And make it good."

"Okay lady," the tattoo artist sighed as he looked a the sketch Sonny had scribbled for him. Even in his most drunken state, he could still doodle a perfect alien. It was probably ingrained on his brain after doing it so often that he didn't even have to think about it anymore.

"This is gonna hurt a little," the tattoo artist said as Minette settled back in the tattoo chair and the needle started buzzing.

"Oh don't worry about me, I'll be just fine," Minette said with a smile as she closed her eyes, ready for her tattoo.

An hour and a half later, Sonny grinned as he held up the mirror for Minette to look at her tattoo. Her drunk had started to wear off halfway through so Sonny had had to run to get Minette another drink from a small corner shop. "I need the alcohol to make it not hurt as much," Minette had said when the tattoo artist started to protest. But he didn't figure it was worth fighting so he had continued the tattoo. So as Minette gazed at her reflection in the mirror, her drunk was still enough to make her absolutely in love with her new tattoo.

"Oh it's gorgeous!" Minette exclaimed. "Eat your heart out Hugo Butterly."

Minette groaned as she woke up, her head throbbing from the night before. "That is the last time I ever hang out with that alien freak ever again." It all came rushing back to her suddenly: the invitation to hang out, the many drinks, aliens, Sonny's alien tattoo, her alien tattoo, the walk home- wait. Her alien tattoo. She scrambled for the hand mirror she kept on her bedside table, praying that that part of the night was just a figment of her imagination. Then she saw the little green alien head on her left cheek, it's eyes wide, as wide as hers were in horror.

"Oh my god, what was I thinking?" She moaned as she scrubbed hopelessly at the red skin on her face. Flinging the mirror away, not wanting to look at the permanent mark of shame on her face anymore, she buried her face in her hands. "How am I going to explain this? I'll be the laughing stock of the fashion industry. I'll never sell another dress again. I'll go back to being the freak with the dream of being a fashion designer, only this time I'll be the former fashion designer freak with an alien tattoo."

She glared at the Glam Glam magazine on her bedside table, open to the article about fashion designers making statements in the fashion world. Then an idea popped into her head: if wanting to make a statement that got her into this mess in the first place, then maybe it could get her out of this mess.

She lunged for her laptop across the room, avoiding her reflection in the mirror hanging on the wall. Minette quickly searched for ways to cover up a tattoo, trying to find the most outrageous yet chic one. Makeup would be the easiest one, but then no one would even know that anything had happened; plus tattoo covering makeup could get expensive. One day of covering it would be easy, but a lifetime? That was big bucks? Scrolling down the page she scanned each different way to cover up a tattoo, but couldn't find anything that suited her. Suddenly she saw a picture of a woman wearing a bracelet over her wrist tattoo. Not a bad idea, but what could she wear over her face? Then it came to her: a mask.

It was chic and elegant, and no one would ever have any clue to what was hiding under it. Quickly Minette went to and found a simple white mask with a pair of blood red lips on the mouth area. It would be perfect for hiding her tattoo but still looked stylish. She ordered quickly, paying extra for overnight shipping. It was Saturday, so the soonest the mask would arrive would be Monday, the day of her next show, the perfect opportunity to show off her new mask.

"All right Heather, how's everything going so far?" Minette asked as she tapped Heather on the shoulder to get her attention. Heather turned around and when she caught a glimpse of Minette's mask, she jumped.

"Minette?"

"Yes, it's me Heather. Do you like my mask?"

Heather was about to answer when a stopwatch that was hanging around her neck beeped. She shook her head, walking away from Minette. "Five minutes people. We're walking out in five minutes."

Minette shrugged and ran to catch up with Heather checking on the models, making sure that every detail was perfect. Even with her new mask on, she was still same old Minette, being obsessive over the details of the models wearing her pieces. If she found one thread out of place, she immediately blamed the model, saying it was their fault that the thread was out of place, and ultimately would try to not even let the piece be shown, until Heather reminded her that the press had been told they would be seeing ten pieces, so ten pieces would have to be shown. After a few minutes of Minette trailing Heather and almost bringing a few of the models to tears, Heather had finally had enough. "Why don't you go and take a seat in the audience Minette? That'll be the best way to see the pieces and you can show everyone your new mask." Heather tried to sound excited about that last part, but she mostly sounded tired of Minette. "I'll get Sonny to help me back here." Minette couldn't help but twitch at the sound of Sonny's name. He had gotten her into this whole mess at the first place, not just wanting to make a statement. She made a memo in her head to tell Heather to fire the loser first thing tomorrow morning. He was a bad influence on her. If he happened to bring her out for another night of drinking, who knows what kind of tattoo she would end up with next? It would be best for both of them to live their separate lives. She had fashion and he had aliens. And speaking of fashion, she should probably get out to the audience so she could get a prime seat. Even after working on these pieces for months, even years, she still got a thrill from finally seeing them on the catwalk, being shown off to the world.

Just as she was about to leave backstage, she heard a familiar voice call out her name. "Minette?" His voice sent chills down her spine. She considered pretending that she hadn't heard him at all, but thought against it.

"Hello Sonny," she said, her voice emotionless.

"Wh-why are you wearing that mask?" He reached for the mask but Minette slid backwards, bumping into the exit door. His face was overcome with hurt. "What's wrong? Was it something I did?"

Minette looked at him sympathetically from behind the mask. It wasn't his fault that she felt this way. She cared about him, she truly did. But she couldn't work with him anymore, especially after Saturday night. "I'm sorry Sonny. It's just, maybe it'd be best if you didn't work at the studio anymore. You can get your stuff tomorrow morning. Try to be out by noon. I have some clients stopping by then."

Sonny went to open his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Finally he mustered up a nod then turned around to go check out more of the models.

Then on impulse, Minette called out his name. He paused at hearing his name. She hoped he would say something, anything to her but all he did was shake his head, his purple and green hair moving with his head, looking as downtrodden as he was.

Minette turned around too, placing a hand on door handle. She cursed herself for feeling sentimental for the assistant. What was wrong with her?

Suddenly someone bumped into her from behind, throwing a hurried "sorry" to her. "Hey, what was that for?"

"Sorry lady," the man muttered as he turned around to see who it was. Terror struck his face. "Oh god Minette, I'm so sorry, I just wasn't looking where I was going, I didn't mean it, honest."

Minette was tempted to yell at him just like she would to anyone who would bump into her like that and throw a half-hearted sorry at her. She almost did, until she got a look a good look at him. His hair was spiked up just like Sonny always did his, a bright shirt with matching neon shoes, ripped jeans that looked like they were years old. He was so much like Sonny, he made her sad at the lost of her assistant. "Whatever, just don't let it happen again," she said, straightening her mask with her hands.

Once her mask was straightened, she turned to the door, finally pushing it open, stepping out into the world with one less crazy haired, alien obsessed assistant and one more broken heart.


End file.
